“A beer?” I laughed. “I haven’t had a beer in …” And then I stopped as I remembered Sadie and I in the War Eagle Club. “I haven’t had a beer since the War Eagle Club.”

“My God, woman. Are you serious?”

“A few days ago.”

“Is this something I want to know about?” He laughed, rubbing the stubble along his chin. “Seriously, a couple days ago?”

“Silly story … I was with Sadie in Auburn last week. Just let me change clothes real quick, and we’ll go,” I said. “Is that okay?”

“Sure.”

I motioned for him to come in. “It’ll take me two seconds. Come on in.”

He hesitated and then entered, but stood at the entranceway. I walked toward the back of the house and hollered, “One minute; I promise.”

I decided on a spaghetti-strap sundress and simple flip-flops. I loosed my hair from its ponytail, but didn’t brush it. I put mascara quickly on my eyelashes, pink on my lips, and then I stepped out of the bedroom. “Let’s go,” I said. “Ready?”

“Sure am.”

French doors were flung open so it felt as though we were inside and outside at the same time. But these weren’t like any French doors I’d seen—these were pieces of plywood with panes of glass crooked and fragile in the middle. The room was crowded and too warm.

“Fancy, ain’t it?” Hutch asked as he guided us to a table near the bar and against a wall.

“Very,” I said, sitting in a rickety chair. “Just like I like it.”

“I don’t believe you,” he said. “I have a feeling you’re used to something much different.”

“Doesn’t matter what I’m used to; it only matters what I like.”

“Sit,” he said in a quiet voice. “I’ll go get us two beers.”

When he returned he held two cold beer mugs and menus. “Thank you,” I said. He sat across from me and we perused the menus in silence, and then I closed mine. “I’m not that hungry.”

He looked over the top of his menu. “You gotta get the hush puppies. Just try them.”

I nodded in agreement. “Okay.”

He shut his menu and ordered for both of us and then said, “Tell me all about yourself, Ellie.”

“Well, what do you really want to know? You know the facts—I’ve been married to Rusty for twenty-two years. We’ve lived in Atlanta—same house, even—for that whole time. Lil is nineteen already and in summer school … that’s about it, really.” I finished the facts just as our food arrived.

“No way is that about it. I saw the article in the AJC about your art. Tell me all about it.” He popped a hush puppy in his mouth and leaned back in his seat, smiling.